If I Ain't Got You
by youwillneverfindme
Summary: "You're beautiful, Mione." Abruptly, she stood up, dusting the bits of grass and dirt off of her jeans and jacket. "Let's go home. I need to unpack my boxes." I'm on a beta hunt! If you're interested, PM me.
1. Chapter 1

**A/n: Hey there! I've been reading the Harmony pairing lately and I have absolutely fallen in love with it. I absolutely have to write my own. I'm going to try to update this once a week, but I'm a married freshman in college and I work 20 hours a week, so I'm not making any promises. I hope you read it regardless and enjoy :)**

**Disclaimer: JKR owns all the characters and Warner Brothers owns the script for this. All that's mine is the storyline :)**

"The sword of Gryffindor. It's goblin made," said Hermione excitedly, bent over the array of papers and diagrams strewn all over their makeshift kitchen table. It was easily two o'clock in the morning, and Harry could feel his patience with Hermione waning with every second that passed. She could keep going and going no matter what the circumstances. He, Harry, however, started to shut down around midnight and could not function when he was tired.

"Brilliant," he said, leaning back in his chair. Maybe if he closed his eyes for just a second...

Hermione's voice pierced him again. "No, you don't understand. Dirt and rust have no affect on the blade. It only takes in that which makes it stronger."

"O...kay?"

"Harry, you've already destroyed one Horcrux, right?"

"Yeah, with a basilisk fang. If you've got a stash of those in that bloody beaded bag of yours..." Harry stood up and turned to go to his camp bed. Hermione this late was really getting to him.

"Harry, don't you see?" she almost yelled. "In the Chamber of Secrets, you stabbed the basilisk with the sword of Gryffindor. It's blade is impregnated with basilisk venom!"

Harry whirled around, adn he could hardly contain the amount of excitement in his voice. "It only takes in that which makes it stronger!"

"Exactly! Which is why-"

"It can destroy Horcruxes." Harry rejoined Hermione at the table.

"That's why Dumbledore left it to you in his will!"

Harry gazed at her like he'd never seen her before. "Brilliant, Hermione, truly. But there's only one problem-"

Suddenly, a light turned out. They were now sitting in pitch blackness. For a minute Harry considered casting a lumos and hexing whoever the intruder was, but then they flicked back on. Harry's eyes adjusted and fell on Ron, who was holding the Put-Outer and looking sour. "But the sword was stolen," he said scathinly. Harry caught a glimpse of the Horcrux under Ron's shirt. "Yeah, I'm still here. But you two carry on. Don't let me spoil your fun."

Harry stood up again, and walked toward Ron. "What's wrong?"

"Wrong? Nothing's wrong. According to you anyway."

"If you've got something to say, spit it out."

"Alright, I'll _spit it out._" Ron snapped. "But don't expect me to be grateful because now there's another damn thing we've got to find."

"I thought you knew what you signed up for," Harry said blankly. He saw a hint of the Horcrux under Ron's shirt.

"Yeah, I thought I did too."

Harry stood up hastily, and walked toward Ron. "I'm sorry, but I don't _quite _understand. What part of this isn't living up to your expectations?" Harry caught a glimpse of Hermione, and she was staring at the two of them with a shocked expression on her face. "Did you think we'd be staying in a five-star hotel? Finding a Horcrux every other day? You thought you'd be back to your Mum by Christmas?"

"I just thought, after all this time, we would have actually achieved something. I thought you knew what you were doing, I thought Dumbledore would have told you _something_ worthwhile. We thought you had a plan!"

Harry felt betrayed, irritated, and furious. "I told you everything Dumbledore told me, and in case you haven't noticed we have found a Horcrux already!"

Ron screwed his face up. "And we're about as close to getting rid of it as we are to finding the rest of them aren't we?"

Hermione stepped in between them, facing Ron. Her hands flew up to the Horcrux, trying to wrestle it off of his neck. "Ron, take it off-" Ron threw her hands away roughly, and Harry started towards him. Harry wasn't sure why, but he quickly reassured himself that it was purely a brotherly thing. Of course he would want to keep his best friend safe. "You would be saying any of this if you hadn't been wearing it all day!" she finished, her voice becoming more and more hysterical.

"You don't know why I listen to that radio every night, do you? To make sure I don't hear Ginny's name, or Fred, or George, or Mum.

"What, you think I'm not listening too?" Harry yelled. "You think I don't know how this feels!"

"No you don't know how it feels! Your parents are _dead!_ You have no family!"

Harry lunged toward Ron. He wanted nothing more than to pound his face into the tent floor, but Hermione pulled him away. "Stop! Stop!" She pushed him backward so he and Ron were staring at each other, panting heavily.

"Go then! Go!" Harry shouted. He watched as Ron wrestled the Horcrux off, and picked up his rucksack. Hermione stared at him in disbelief as he did so, following him with her eyes as he gathered his things from around the tent.

"Ron-"

"And you?"

"What?"

Ron stood in the entrance of the tent, not looking at either of them. "Are you coming or are you staying?"

Hermione stared at him, and glanced between him and Harry in very quick succession. Her mouth fell open "Wha-"

"I get it. You choose him." Ron exited the tent without another word and left Harry and Hermione staring at each other in disbelief.

"Ron! Ron-" Hermione ran out of the tent into the rain, after him. Harry's mind was currently blank. He was absolutely unsure as to how that just happened. He knew Ron was always impulsive, ignorant, and maybe even a little selfish, but he never thought that his best friend would abandon him at such a crucial time. He sank down into the chair and put his head in his hands.

After a few minutes, Hermione reemerged into the tent, soaked with rain. There were tear tracks etched onto her rosy cheeks, and Harry almost broke down at the helpless look on her face. She collapsed into the armchair nearest him, without speaking. "Hermione-" he said, but gave up when she did not acknowledge his voice. Sighing, he stood up and dragged the blankets off of his bunk and covered her.

* * *

It was two days later, and the silence still hadn't subsided much. He and Hermione said a few words in passing to each other, but no conversations. He was right tired of seeing her brooding over that radio the same way Ron had; instead of hearing static, he heard love songs and ballads. If he thought he felt alone when Ron and Hermione were together, it was even worse when Hermione was pining over him.

Suddenly, inspiration hit him like a brick.

Slowly, Harry walked over to his best friend. He reached out his hand to where she was sitting on the floor, and she looked at him with red-rimmed eyes. Smiling slightly, Hermione took his hand and he pulled her to her feet.

They swayed around the room to the music, spinning in circles. Eventually he heard her laugh, and he was laughing, and then they were both rolling around on the floor laughing. He wasn't quite sure why, but bloody hell did it feel great to not worry about anything for a moment. But eventually the moment stopped, and the music quieted, and they were laying on the floor of the tent. Harry turned his head toward Hermione, to gauge the expression on her face. The whole point of the dance was to get her to loosen up and maybe laugh a little, Harry told himself. If he had done that much, he was successful.

The look on Hermione's face, however, was not one of laughter and excitment. She was staring at him as if she had never seen him before, and if he was not mistaken, that was the same look Ginny had given him many of times. Harry's heart skipped a beat. She had never looked more beautiful, with her cheeks rosy and eyes wide from laughing. _Whoa. _Harry shocked himself by the thoughts in his head. What had changed between them in that simple three minutes of laughter and fun? Is this what Ron had noticed? Is that why he had left?

"Hermione-"

"Shh," she said, and closed the distance between them. It felt like an eternity to him, and he left his eyes wide open in shock, staring at her. Wasn't Hermione just upset that Ron had left her? Wasn't she in love with him? All of these questions barelled through Harry's head and left his brain a jumbled mess. But he didn't stop her. He deepened the kiss, putting his hand on the back of her neck and pulling her closer. Hermione's kiss felt so much different than Ginny's or even Cho's- she was somehow bolder and more reserved, softer and somehow rougher at the same time. He wasn't sure how to describe it.

And he wasn't sure that he wanted to. Whatever this was, Harry thought, it wouldn't survive the morning. Hermione would force herself to forget, convince herself that she was in love with Ron and Harry was nothing more than a brother. Because she was _Hermione. _

Harry pulled away from her, and stared at her. He memorized every detail of this moment- the pressure of her hands on his chest, the halo of hairs that fell astray from her ponytail, and her pink lips. He tucked it all away in the back of his brain for safekeeping.

**A/n: DONT BACK OUT ON ME HERE. I know that when I read a story and it progresses too fast, I'm done. I can't stand when they fall in love in the first chapter. But PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE stick with me here. I have big plans. **

**Review if you liked it, thank you so much :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/n: I love the positive reaction I've been getting about this story **** You guys are awesome! **

Hermione Granger took a deep breath and straightened the stack of papers on her desk. She would have to tackle those proposals tomorrow. It was already eleven o' clock, and no matter how late she wanted to stay and finish up, Ron was waiting for her at home. She'd hate to have another fight- "Come on, 'Mione, what's happening in the Department of House Elves that you have to stay out so late? An attractive bloke getting all your time while I'm home alone?"

No matter how much she loved Ron, those things always got to her. She was Hermione Granger, for Merlin's sake—did he even know her at all? She would be the least likely person in all of Britain to cheat on her boyfriend.

Well, except for that one time, two years ago. But that wasn't technically cheating. And she didn't like to think about that.

Hermione slung her messenger bag over her shoulder, surprised at the pain in her neck and back. Maybe they really _were_ working her too hard here. It had always been her dream job to work in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures- maybe pass some new house-elf legislation, or improve the public opinion of werewolves. However, she was stuck reviewing and correcting ancient laws about merpeople, making them more relevant to the present day.

It wasn't as if she didn't like her job. She was just _bored. _

Sighing, Hermione grabbed a handful of Floo powder and stepped into the blaze of green light. After the familiar whooshing sound, she emerged into the all-too-quiet flat—Ron must have been sleeping.

Hermione busied herself in the kitchen, taking care not to make too much noise. As she opened the refrigerator to retrieve the jam for her scone, she smiled at the photo of herself, Harry, and Ron taped to the door. Frowning slightly, she wondered how Harry had been; she hadn't seen him in a few days. At least a few days wasn't as bad as after the war, when he'd disappeared for a month. He had never even told anyone where he had gone.

And as for Harry and Ginny? Hermione remembered their very publicized breakup—if you could call it that. Ginny had just shacked up with Colin Creevey while he was away. Harry wasn't too put off about it though; he said he'd always known that he and Ginny weren't going to end up together forever.

Just then, there was a very loud crash from the bedroom. Hermione rushed in, wand outstretched—

-only to find Ron's sweaty limbs entangled with none other's than Lavender Brown, a water glass shattered on the floor.

Hermione seemed to have lost the ability to form intelligent speech. She watched for a moment as Ron leaned down and kissed Lavender's breast, the same motion that made Hermione come undone every time. Ron knew that, and suddenly, she hated him.

"Petrificus Totalus," Hermione said calmly from the doorway, and she watched in sick pleasure as Lavender sprung stiff as a board on top of Ron. For a moment he struggled, confused, to get her off of him, and then he spotted Hermione standing in the bedroom.

Instead of being full of remorse like he should have been, Ron's ears turned red and he advanced toward Hermione, finger pointed in an accusing gesture. "You put her right! You had no right to do that!"

Hermione's eyes widened, but she ignored Ron's stupidity. She had e_very _right to do that. "If you're any wizard at all, do it yourself. "Hermione grabbed her beaded bag that was hanging on the doorknob and packed her things. A few sets of clothes, books, her work notebook, her bathroom necessities. She ignored Ron at Lavender's side, fully naked.

"Ron, it's over," Hermione said, much calmer than she wanted to. "I'll be back in a few days to pick up my things."

He turned to her, mouth wide. "You mean you're leaving me because I cheated on you once? How many times have you cheated on me with bloody Harry Potter?"

Hermione's face turned white. "N-none."

Ron scoffed. "Oh yeah? Not even in the tent while I was gone?"

Hermione turned on her heel and stepped directly into the Floo, emerging into the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. She wondered vaguely what Ron would make of that last reaction. Obviously he would put two and two together and then he would know that something had happened between them. Hermione had tried to forget it—really, she had—but kissing Harry was not something to be taken lightly.

"Mistress Hermione," said Kreacher questioningly; he had just appeared in the kitchen. "Can I get you anything? Tea? Pumpkin juice? A biscuit?" She watched Kreacher as he bustled around the kitchen, pulling out various mugs and saucers.

"No thank you, Kreacher." Hermione noticed that he looked fairly dejected. "Is Harry awake though? I need to speak with him." The elf hurried out of the room, and Hermione exhaled the deep breath she wasn't aware she'd been holding. She was alone with Harry for the first time since two years ago, in his kitchen, at eleven o' clock at night. She had to admit that made her nervous. What was she going to say? She had just appeared in his house, with no call or Floo or Patronus, and he had work in the morning. What was she doing here? Hastily, she turned around and intended to go back the way she came in, and Floo to her parent's house instead.

Hermione had just picked up a handful of Floo powder when there was a voice behind her. "Hermione? What are you doing?"

Reluctantly she put the Floo powder back in the pot and turned to face Harry. He was standing next to the kitchen table, shirtless, with grey sweatpants hung low around his hips. His muscles were oddly defined since the last time Hermione had saw him shirtless, and his inky black hair was sticking up in all directions. Hermione blushed, but she wasn't sure what it was from—her obvious examination of her best friend's physique, or the fact that she was standing in his kitchen in her work robes so late at night. "I—I had a problem at home and I didn't know where else to go. I'm sorry to bother you. I was just leaving."

Harry gave her a small smile and walked toward her, arms outstretched. He led her to the table, where she sat down roughly and put her head in her hands. "You know you can come to me for anything. Let me make you some tea and you can tell me about it."

Five minutes later, they were sitting at the table holding mugs of steaming Earl Grey. Harry had put on a shirt, and he was staring at her expectantly. Why did she have the feeling that he was examining her, just the way that she had examined him? "What happened, love? You look so upset."

"I—Ron. I came home from work and I found him in our bed with Lavender Brown."

Harry's eyes widened, and he choked on his tea. "Are you joking?"

Hermione shook her head, and she felt the tears come for the first time tonight. "And I hexed her." Harry smiled proudly, but didn't say anything, and let her go on. "Ron blamed me for hexing her, and accused me of cheating on him with you. He thought it was no big deal that—that _slag _was in my bed."

"He doesn't deserve you, 'Mione."

Hermione hid behind her hair and took a long sip of her tea. She didn't want Harry to see her blush at his compliment. "But I don't know where I'm going to stay from now on, until I get my things out of Ron's flat and I get my own. I could move back home with my parents, but that would mean so much trouble for work, I'd have to connect their house to the Floo and—"

"Hermione, stop."

She glanced at Harry, slightly shocked. "You know you get stuck in your head when you have a problem. You never see the solutions that are right in front of you," Harry said matter-of-factly. "You can stay here, you know that. I have a spare bedroom upstairs."

She smiled at her best friend's generosity. "Thank you, Harry."

"Are you done with your tea? I'll show you." She followed him upstairs, to the room where she and Ginny had stayed in in the past. "I've been fixing the house up. No one has stayed here in years; you'd be shocked at the amount of dirt that has showed up since we were here last." She opened the door, and the room was white-walled with hardwood floors. A bed, bookshelf, and dresser sat bare along the walls.

"Thank you, Harry, it's brilliant," she exclaimed, hugging Harry impulsively. He wrapped his arms around her, softly at first, and then tighter. As she pulled away, she noticed the blush high on his cheeks and hastily straightened herself and her robes. "I'll see you in the morning. Good night, Harry."

"Night, 'Mione."

**A/n: Review if you liked it please :3**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/n: I had expected to have slower updates than this, but I'm really inspired by your feedback and I love to hear from you :) If you hate it, tell me. If you love it, tell me. If you read it and you couldn't read anymore because it didn't make sense, tell me. (I do that sometimes). **

**I wrote this chapter in my Algebra class. (Maybe that's why I have a D in there...)**

Hermione pushed herself against him, their lips tangling in the heat of the moment. Harry's hands moved down to her waist, grasping her bottom and then coming back up to rest on the small of her back. She moaned, a low, throaty sound, and he captured it, his tongue running along her bottom lip. "Hermione," he groaned, shoving his hips against her, his length pressing on her stomach.

Hermione woke with a start, instantly confused and red-faced. Why she had that dream, she had no idea, but she hoped to Merlin that she hadn't talked in her sleep. Taking a deep breath, she sat up, straightening her tank top and sleep shorts. "Pull it together, Granger," she said to herself, and then got out of bed and headed down the stairs.

Harry was sitting at one end of the long table, drinking a mug of what looked like coffee and reading the Daily Prophet. He looked over the top of the paper at her as she entered the room and smiled. "Morning. Coffee? Tea?"

Hermione shook her head. _At least he's wearing a shirt this time, _she thougt to herself. "No thank you. You know, you don't have to wait on me. It's already enough that I'm staying at your house."

"I know I don't have to. I like to," Harry said matter-of-factly, and silence fell between them.

"Anyone we know?" Hermione quipped, and Harry grinned. She knew this would break the tension- it was reminiscent of their Hogwarts years.

"Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson are getting married today. Gala at Malfoy Manor."

Hermione smirked. "Oh, how horrible. I can't imagine being married to that ferret."

Harry frowned, but only slightly. "I work with him. He's not as bad as he used to be." Hermione fell silent, but then Harry joked, "What about being married to that cow, Pansy Parkinson?"

They shared a laugh. "What are your plans for today?" Hermione got up to make a pot of tea, and she was painfully aware of Harry's eyes on her.

"Oh, Hermione, love, Kreacher can do that," Harry said quickly, and Hermione was shunted out of the way by Kreacher. "I was going to do a little more remodeling today. I actually fancied a walk in Muggle London as well. What do you usually do on weekends?"

She paused, wondering if she should say it aloud or not. "Well, Ron and I usually go out." Harry's eyebrows raised, and Hermione panicked "No, no. Don't feel like you have to do anything, it's really-"

"I wasn't," he replied, confused. "I was just shocked he took you anywhere," Kreacher put a mug of perfectly made tea into Hermione's hands. "He's a right prat for letting you go, you know that, right? You're worth a hundred of him."

Hermione blushed, unable to stop it. There wer so many unsaid things between she and Harry she could hardly stand the tension. "I- thank you, Harry. You're really a great friend." She ignored the look on his face as she continued. She didn't want to know if the friend jibe had affected him. "I have to go over to the flta today and pick up the rest of my things. I shouldn't be long. Afterward I'll take you up on the offer of Muggle London."

"I'll come with you."

"Oh no, I can manage on my own."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Harry, no, you shouldn't come."

"Why not?"

"Ron thinks I'm sleeping with you, alright? He accused me of cheating on him." Hermione couldn't stop the outburst before it occured.

"And what did you tell him?"

"I told him nothing happened. What else was I supposed to say?"

Harry put down his coffee and newspaper, and left the room.

* * *

Hermione stared at the door, trying to work up the courage to go inside. She almost considered turning around and going back to the comfort and safety of Harry's kitchen. She should have come on a weekday, while Ron was at work. Taking a few deep breaths, she put her key in the lock and turned it.

She managed to make it into the bedroom without running into Ron. However, as soon as she Conjured some boxes to pack her things, he appeared in the doorway. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Hermione didn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her hurt face. "I'm moving out. I'm packing my things."

"Where are you going?" Hermione methodically packed her clothes. Dresses. Skirts. Robes. Jeans. Sweaters. Knickers. Bras. She took a deep breath before answering Ron.

"It's none of your goddamned business."

She turned to see his face now, and it was one of complete and utter shock. "What did you just say to me?"

"I said it's none of your goddamned business where I'm living. It's not up to you, and we're not dating anymore. Why would I tell you in the first place?" Hermione felt a rush of courage. Merlin, she was never this harsh with Ron. Where was it coming from?

"You're staying with Harry, aren't you? You're sleeping with him."

"And what if I am?" Hermione regretted this the instant she said it. Now Ron would start rumors, and he might even go to the Prophet, and it would all be false. It was worth the satisfaction, however, when Ron's eyes bugged out and he stared at her.

By this point, Hermione was done packing. She shrunk her packages and put them in her beaded bag, and walked over to the Floo. "I guess this is goodbye, Ronald. Tell your family hello for me."

Hermione Floo'ed out of the apartment.

**A/n: Yes, I am aware this is short. But I am in love with Hermione's badass-ness in this chapter and I don't feel like any more is necessary :) Review please! **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/n: I love you guys! You're fantastic. My phone has been blowing up with all kinds of notifications that people are following my story, and it makes me happy every time! Thanks so much. I have this story planned out to about Chapter 12, so expect fast updates. **

Hermone Floo'ed back into the kitchen, feeling strangely confident and rejuvenated. She had never cursed at Ron like that before, and she felt like she was on top of the world. It was a fantastic feeling- she had the urge to curse at Harry when he walked in the room.

"What are you thinking?" Harry said skeptically as he walked into the kitchen.

Hermione smiled evilly. "I'm thinking about cursing at you. Do you have a problem with that?"

"Depends on the context," Harry said, and winked.

Hermione's mouth dropped open. "I-I-"

Harry grinned. "Only kidding, Mione. Why are you thinking of cursing at me?"

Hermione reached into her bag, pulled out her boxes, and methodically placed them one-by-one on the counter. "I yelled at Ron, and it felt fantastic."

"Oh yeah?"

"He asked where I was staying, and I was actually rude to him. He accused me of sleeping with you again."

"I know it's probably none of my business, but I'm really curious as to what you told him."

"I said, 'What if I am?'"

Harry's eyebrows raised up into his mop of black hair. "I'm impressed." There was silence for a moment in which Hermione observed Harry's appearance out of the corner of her eye. He was wearing a simple pair of jeans, and a grey woolen sweater that was starting to shrink. His black hair was, of course, sticking up, and his hands were shoved into the front pockets of his jeans. _He really is attractive, _Hermione thought to herself, and then blushed. She did _not _just think that about Harry. Her best friend since she was eleven.

"Do you need any help unpacking your boxes or anything?" Harry asked. Hermione knew he had noticed her blush because of the ghost of a smile on his face, but she was very thankful he didn't mention it.

"No thanks," she replied. "I'll just take them upstairs and do it later. Do you still want to go for a walk? It's a beautiful day." Harry nodded and Hermione proceeded up the stairs with her belongings.

She couldn't believe how much she was responding to Harry. Surely all of this blushing and outright flirting was nothing special. Harry was just delighted to see her, and she to him- after spending the past two years separated by Ron. Yes, that was it. She missed his company, that was all. Hermione was sure Harry had forgotten about the tent and remembered no spark between them. Surely, she didn't. However, Hermione surprised herself when she picked one of her fancier work shirts to go under the cargo jacket she was wearing. Surely she was imagining how low-cut it was.

She was just trying to look presentable in case they ran into any reporters, that's all.

Hermione felt Harry's eyes on her as she re-entered the kitchen, and this time, a blush spread over his face. Quickly, though, it disappeared and Harry outstretched his hand for her to take. "Side-Along alright with you?"

"Of course."

There was the familiar feeling of stretching and being shoved through a tube, and then she was breathing dusty London air. They were outside The Leaky Cauldron, and when they entered, Tom the barman waved hello. "Hello, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger. What brings you to my pub today?"

Harry raised his hand in greeting, and with a shock she realized that Harry's other hand was still clutching hers. "Just passing through, Tom. We fancied a walk in Muggle London. Maybe afterward, we'll stop in for a pint."

The two of them emerged into the hustle and bustle of the Muggle world rather unceremoniously. They were nearly knocked over by a young mother pushing her two children in a double stroller, and Harry outstretched his arm to keep Hermione from falling. "Blimey, these Muggles are impolite," Harry said loudly. She smiled at his protective nature. "Where to?"

"It was your idea."

Harry turned to her, his face set in a crooked grin that nearly made Hermione's heart melt. "You're the one that lived here."

Hermione was very close to replying 'As did you,' but she quickly stopped herself, realizing that the Dursley's would not have taken Harry on day trips to London. "Please tell me you've been here since we graduated."

Harry shook his head, grinning. "I've never been in London."

The bushy-haired witch was outraged. "Dear Merlin, Harry Potter. We have got to get you out more often." Harry merely smiled wider. "So where would you like to go? Big Ben? Westminster Abbey? Buckingham Palace? Shopping?"

"Blimey, Hermione, I'm not from bloody America. I lived in Surrey. Let's just go to a park or something."

So they walked After about a mile or so, they came upon a lovely little playground tucked away under a canopy of willow trees. It was deserted, so the two adults immediately went for the swings. "I bet I can get higher than you," Harry boasted, kicking his legs harder and harder to fly into the air. Hermione laughed at his audacity, and then kicked her legs as well.

"Jump!" she cried, and threw her head back to look at the sky. The aqua blue consumed her for a second, and she felt like she was flying- and then her hands left the ropes.

Hermione flew through the air, the wind whipping her face, and then she landed hard on the ground, her teeth rattling. Harry landed beside her, just as hard, and turned to her with a wide smile. "Whose bloody brilliant idea was jumping off of swings? Merlin, my feet feel broken."

Content and relaxed, Hermione laid her head back against the grass and closed her eyes. She was painfully aware of Harry's presence next to her, and she clenched her fists, nervous. They were in such an intimate position right now and she nearly killed herself from the tension.

"You're beautiful, Mione."

Abruptly, she stood up, dusting the bits of grass and dirt off of her jeans and jacket. "Let's go home. I need to unpack my boxes."

With a great sigh, Harry stood up, and they walked home, with two feet of space separating them.

**A/n: I'm on a beta hunt, you guys! If you're interested, PM me. I will be looking at your profile and reading your stories to see if we are a good fit. **


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